Chapter 215

“Come with me,” Gladys says, her eyes flitting between Caleb and me. “I’d be happy to give you a tour of my home.”

“That would be very kind, thank you,” Caleb says, his voice dripping with false diplomacy. It matches Gladys’s own.

“Thank you,” I say, softer.

Gladys turns and slowly leads the way out of the sitting room. She uses a black walking cane as she walks, with a silver wolf head affixed to the top of it. As we pass by certain places, she lifts the cane to point.

“Here we have the library,” she says, walking by an opened doorway.

I barely have time to peek in or risk falling behind. With the butler following closely behind us, though, I know that falling too far behind is not an option.

“Here is the dining room,” she says. “Not to be confused with the dining hall, which is where we host larger dinner parties.”

The dining room seems plenty large on its own, but when I see the dining hall, my eyes go wide. The place is as big as a ballroom, which the estate also has, further down. The ballroom could fit an entire wing inside of it. There’s a pit of the orchestra, and even an attached kitchen just for the ballroom’s use.

Ten of Caleb’s Hall could have fit into this room. Does she often hold parties where she invites the entire pack?

The entire estate screams of wealth and decadence. Size aside, everything is coated in gold. The edges of the stairs are gold, the banisters, the tops of the crown molding. Picture frames, vases, other art. Even the marble floors seem to have bands of gold dipped into them somehow.

We’ve already passed by two staircases, one leading to the guest rooms, and one to her more private chambers. The third one, she doesn’t even mention.

“What’s up here?” I ask, my curiosity taking over my understanding of decorum in that moment.

“This area is off-limits to guests,” Gladys says, and does not say more than that as she continues on, leading us into yet another sitting room, this one containing priceless works of art thought lost to time. No, apparently, they’ve been here all the time, locked away in a private collection.

As we make our way back toward the off-limits staircase, Caleb and I exchange a glance.

“Keep walking,” the butler says gruffly from behind us, though we made no indication that we were slowing down, or had any intent to.

Throughout the tour, I notice that the members of Gladys’s staff that we see all seem to be the same kind of bulky military types like the butler.

Caleb must notice as well, because he says, “Your staff seem unconventional. Are they all military trained?” He asks the question in a friendly, conversational tone, but the intent is clear.

He wants Gladys to know that we see and that we won’t be intimidated.

Gladys’s cane clacks on the marble as we walk.

“I’m a lone woman out here in the country,” she says. “I like to feel protected.”

We continue to follow Gladys back to the stairwell to the guest rooms. This time, she leads us up the large staircase to a long wide hallway with doors lined evenly on both sides.

She walks to one at the end of the hallway, then turning the knob, reveals a beautiful and decadent bedroom within. The bed is king-sized, with four posts and a flash of red silk draped over top. The couch in the sitting area matches the fabric. All of the wood is dark cherry, stark against the white and gold flooring that persists from the hallway into the room.

“You will be staying here, Alpha King. There is a bathroom attached through there, and a closet for you to unpack your things. If you would follow me, consort, I will show you to –”

“Harper will be staying with me,” Caleb says.

Gladys stops. She lifts one lone brow high on her forehead. “It is improper for anyone to insist on sleeping arrangements in another’s home.”

Caleb stares back for a long moment. He doesn’t say anything, but as Alpha King, he really doesn’t have to.

Gladys sighs. “I suppose, for you, I can make an exception. Though I point out it is against decorum.” To her butler, she says, “Please alert the staff that the consort will be staying in here with the Alpha King.”

“Yes, ma’am,” the butler says, but doesn’t make a move to actually follow the command. Instead, he stays posted at the doorway, like he has been ordered to keep Gladys in his sights.

Or maybe us.

“I will leave you now to prepare for this evenings dinner,” Gladys says. “Your things will be along shortly. If you will excuse me.”

As she heads toward the door, I say, “Thank you again for the tour. You have a lovely home.”

She pauses a moment in her step. Though she does not look at me, I get the sense that she is surprised and annoyed that I talked to her at all.

I’ll need to watch myself more carefully here, or I’ll risk making things more difficult for Caleb.

“Quite,” she replies after too long a moment, then continues to walk out of the room. Only when she is in the hallway, does the butler finally look away from us.

When they have gone, I hurry forward and close the door. Caleb stays standing in the sitting area, glancing around.

The room is somehow as large as his own in his palace, though this is just a guest room. It makes me curious what Gladys’ own chambers look like.

Walking back to Caleb, I start to say, “What do you think of her staff? It’s clear that –”

My words are cut short, my lips suddenly very occupied with Caleb’s pressed against them. He coaxes my mouth open with ease, and swipes his tongue inside, tracing his alongside my own.

The passionate kiss steals my breath and my thoughts.

Caleb closes his arms around me, pulling me more forcefully against him as the kiss continues. I cling onto his shoulders, my knees growing weak.

When we both come up for air, I’m stunned, incapable of any higher thoughts at the moment. The only thing I really want is for him to kiss me again.

Caleb does, but not as I expect. He presses a soft kiss to the corner of my mouth, then kisses down to my jaw. After sucking in a mark just under my jawline, he plants sloppy kiss after sloppy kiss on the way to my ear.

“Be careful what you say,” he whispers, then takes my earlobe between his teeth, lightly nibbling.

I gasp in pleasure.

“While we are in this place,” he continues, his words hot on my ear. I’m so thoroughly distracted by his closeness, his hands on my waist, and his breath on my ear, that I very nearly phase out what he’s saying. But no. I know it’s important so I try to concentrate. “Always assume someone’s listening.”

Through the haze of pleasure, I start to feel a twinge of fear. It’s enough to cause me to lean back and look at Caleb for clarification.

“They are listening,” he mouths, without saying a word.

With my growing fear, my only question is, who?